


chasing stars

by kyeoesc



Series: Nyctophilia [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Late Night Conversations, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sarcasm, Short, Short One Shot, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, they're just vibin again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyeoesc/pseuds/kyeoesc
Summary: Yeosang liked to pretend that the snow beneath him was as comfortable as the bed in his room. It always looked soft and comforting just from the look of it, but as its nature of being frozen rain, and from the phrase ‘crunch of the snow’, it was definitely crunchier than it appeared to be.“Do you want to be left alone, Kang Yeosang?”--Wooyoung attempts to confess his interest in Yeosang in a cold winter night.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Series: Nyctophilia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979506
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	chasing stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This will be a series, along with my previous Seongjoong. Can you tell what the theme is? Anyway, after I figure out how to link stuff together as collections and all that it'll probably be more obvious. Hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Oh and a little tip, every time lyrics appear the first letter is a spotify link to the song! If you want to listen to Yeosang's playlist.

Yeosang liked to pretend that the snow beneath him was as comfortable as the bed in his room. It always looked soft and comforting just from the look of it, but as its nature of being frozen rain, and from the phrase ‘crunch of the snow’, it was, definitely, crunchy. It crunches and shifts awkwardly underneath his elbows, hands tucked into his pockets, and he had to dig a shallow pool with his head so he can lie comfortably, albeit not feeling much of it thanks to his padded jacket. The night sky still looked beautiful despite the cold; it looked closer while lying down, as if it was falling slowly, blanketing Yeosang’s sight. The air was warmer after snowfall compared to before it. Yeosang hated that stores closed early during the cold weather; what if he wanted some good, warm, pad thai at 9pm? He wasn’t able to get to the restaurant in time today; it closed at 6, just ten minutes after his class ended, but it was already dark when he left the building, the streets quiet and empty except for the occasional campus bus and biker. Yeosang admired bikers in the winter; those who put in the effort to wear extra layers to fend off the cold and drying winds definitely have their life figured out.

Yeosang can put on all the summer pop songs and it would still sound like a sad winter rhyme when he walked in the cold, his feet either stepping on ice or freezing sidewalks, so he opted to let his heart mourn to the depressing songs in his phone, the murmuring voices barely heard through his earpods. He was walking by a wide field, one that during the summer would be set up with canopies for various clubs. They would make booths to promote their activities to students, trying their best to look like the group of people _you_ would want to be a part of. Yeosang went for the free t-shirts. He paused for a second to look at the space in front of him, now a blanket of white, even the walkway that slithered across the field, usually cleaned for the convenience of its users, was specked with white ice. He walked on the trail slowly; this was not his path, but the time he had ahead of him and the glum songs ringing in his ear made him curious. Halfway down the walkway, he found himself stepping out of its concrete boundaries, lying in the crunchy blanket of white, staring up above, and the song in his ears continued singing. 

It wasn’t long before his meaningless thoughts were interrupted; a familiar face looked down at him curiously, hands tucked into his thick cotton jacket in a similar fashion as Yeosang himself. It took a few seconds for Yeosang to recognize his classmate.

“Yeosang? What are you doing?”

Yeosang didn’t know if he should be annoyed or thankful that Wooyoung’s voice was loud enough to drown the music playing in his ears. He pulled off one of his earpods and sat up, feeling snow scatter behind him as they fell off his back; crunch crunch. He looked up at the boy, who was still waiting for an answer.

“Just wasting time.”

“Ohh,” Wooyoung replied, amused. Yeosang wondered if he should walk away. He didn’t make a decision in time before Wooyoung stepped towards him and sat on a spot next to Yeosang, legs stretched in front of him, then falling on his back. Yeosang observed the other as he looked up at the sky.

“Find anything interesting in the sky?”

“Still looking. Did you find anything?”

“Not really.” Yeosang looked back up at the dark blue-black void. It looked normal like this; when he’s just sitting down, staring up at a non-existent lost lover. If he lied down, he’d be vulnerable to the world around him, letting anything attack before his reflex could save him, but the risk was worth it. So he lied back down, his head just a few inches away from Wooyoung’s. Music still played on the other earpod, a lofi beat accompanied by the repetition of a scatter of words.

_[I](https://open.spotify.com/track/3u0kNxqOOC8SdoODpkmoZO?si=-ElGo1e1Si6t6Bo71i8-Ag) just want your love, I just want. I just want your love, I just want your, I just want. _

“Maybe it’s better to not find anything.”

A few moments passed; Yeosang was still processing that their empty conversation was still going. He wasn’t exactly close to Wooyoung; sure they’ve been in group projects together, and he knew which hall Wooyoung lived in, and they’ve walked to dinner together, as a group, talking mainly about class and video games. It was weird just having a conversation between the two of them, and about the night sky, out of all things.

 _I was the one who started it,_ Yeosang thought to himself. But now he found himself rendered speechless. What’s there to say about an empty void?

“Why so?”

“I was _waiting_ for you to ask.”

“I just did.”

“Like, ten minutes after I said that very, very cool line.” Wooyoung sighed. Yeosang broke into a smile, muffling an amused chuckle. “Anyway. What was to follow was… what was it…”

“You forgot the follow up to your very cool line?”

“I remember it, okay. It’s innate for me to say cool lines. Anyway. It’s better to not find anything, because, well, then I’d want to go and chase after it.”

There was a quiet three seconds in the air.

“That was the follow up?”

“I would appreciate a little applause. Or even curious inquiries, those are welcomed too. No backhanded compliments. No direct insults, especially.”

“Okay, consider this friendly banter then; just an opinion. Not all things discovered are meant to be chased after. Some are just there, to be admired, to be looked at and praised, then left alone. You don’t go into an endangered rainforest and go picking its flowers to bring back, do you?”

“But if you saw a butterfly, and it flew away, wouldn’t you chase after it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because maybe the butterfly wanted to be left alone. It was a miracle I even saw it, a blessing on my behalf. But the butterfly doesn’t want me. It wants to live for another week.”

“Do you want to be left alone, Kang Yeosang?”

Yeosang turned his head to face Wooyoung. The song in his ear had changed now; the tempo slower, a low electric organ playing melodies in the background, the voice pitched too high, and Yeosang had never been able to make out the words. Maybe it’s “[s](https://open.spotify.com/track/7mkjLeqNeFLuzjcf2sOTqP?si=I-RvXRN9QLOnDB_BkiJLbA)aying it’s swallowing me” or “say that you wanted me”, it didn’t really matter, Yeosang liked the song for the music, not the lyrical genius behind it. Did Wooyoung just compare him to butterflies?

“Sheesh, what’s taking you so long to reply?”

“I’m not a butterfly,” Yeosang finally murmured softly. He turned back to the sky. “No human wants to be left alone, not really. Maybe for a bit but. Not always.”

They were quiet after that. The snow below them had melted just the slightest, losing friction between their jackets and the ground. Yeosang’s palms had turned sweaty from the warmth reflected by the pvc inside his pockets, making an uncomfortable mixture of hot and cold. He pulled out his hands and placed the left on his stomach, reaching out to the sky with his right. He observed his fingers; the bones and wrinkles and veins on a pink tinted skin, and the darkness beyond them. Wooyoung looked as well, wondering what Yeosang was thinking about. There was a small tug of war between them; lingering and cold, each wondering who would say something first, if there was anything to say at all. When Yeosang finally let his hand fall, Wooyoung reached out with his hand, towards Yeosang.

“When you see my hand, what do you see?”

Yeosang wondered if this was a trick question. He pushed himself up with his hands, quickly removing them from the prick of the ice after, then crawled closer to Wooyoung, crunch crunch, taking the hand with his cold fingertips. He observed the palm curiously, thinking if he should be finding something, or if it’s just an analogy.

“I see…” Yeosang turned it around and looked at the back side, then turned it around again. “You have short nails. Cup nails. A beauty mark on the back of your hand. And you’re kinda skinny. Your pad is still squishy though.”

“You’re funny.”

“Thanks.”

“When I see your hand, I want to hold it.”

Their eyes found each other, and they stared for what felt like a full minute to Yeosang; too long for his comfort, but he wanted to see if Wooyoung would waver, but he didn’t, and Wooyoung wanted to see if Yeosang would say anything back, but he didn’t. Yeosang’s eyes went back to the hand he was holding in his two palms; Wooyoung didn’t shake or stutter when he said that, how did he do it? Where did he get all the nerves? Yeosang’s stomach was already in knots, just thinking Wooyoung actually meant it, but a small voice in his brain had convinced him that he was just messing with Yeosang, saying things out of his ass just because. Because they were there. Because they were alone, just the two of them, in a somewhat romantic scenery, if that’s what you want to call an old campus, quiet and barren if not for the students that roam it every day, soaked in melted ice blankets and cold breezes that dried their skins to flakes. Yeosang let go of the hand and pulled up his hoodie. He knew his ears were bright red at this point, and he didn’t want Wooyoung to find out, even if they were still surrounded by black vision, too dark to clearly see each other. He threw his head back to the ground and kept his hands back in his pocket; it was a funny thing, constantly throwing his hands in and out of his pocket, trying to manually thermoregulate himself.

“You’re not replying again.”

“You weren’t asking a question.”

“I mean it, ya know.”

What was Wooyoung even doing out here? His dormitory hall was near the building Yeosang had left, that last class being the one that he shared with Wooyoung. Did Wooyoung follow him? Is that what he meant when he compared Yeosang to a butterfly? What a weirdo. No, he must’ve had a reason to pass this path. Why would Wooyoung follow him anyway?

“Have you ever thought of saying what you’re thinking out loud?” Wooyoung suggested.

“You won’t be very happy with what I have to say.”

“Are you calling me a weirdo?”

Yeosang kept quiet.

“That must mean I’m right,” Wooyoung chuckled. Yeosang broke into a smile too. “Yea, okay, I’m a weirdo. I didn’t really know how to tell you I like you, so I went around this little conversation and tried to hint it all over the place, trying to look like a cool guy and all that. But that’s not really the point.”

“Is the point the fact that you followed me out here? Kinda creepy, not gonna lie.”

“That’s- are you purposely not listening to me?”

“I’m just tryna make sense of things,” Yeosang replied. He couldn’t help it, he was smiling so wide, teasing Wooyoung like this was fun. “You went out of your ways to compare me to a butterfly, then said you want to hold my hand, just to look like a cool guy?”

“No, Yeosang,” Wooyoung sighed exasperatedly. “I’m doing it to tell you I like you.”

“See that’s the weird thing-”

“Why are you being difficult?” Wooyoung sat up and looked down at Yeosang, his lips pursed, his eyebrows raised in slight annoyance. Yeosang sputtered into laughter at the sight, rolling to his side as the cackle sounded through the field. Wooyoung bit his lower lip, then poked Yeosang’s side, making his giggles grow louder. “Why are you laughing?”

“Your face is too funny, you’re too transparent-”

“I’m not!”

Yeosang giggled a bit more before resting his head on the ground again, looking up at Wooyoung’s sullen face. He reached out to pinch Wooyoung’s cheek. “Don’t be so sad.”

“Does that mean you don’t like me back?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you like me.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

The music that played in Yeosang’s ear suddenly made something in him shift. His smile disappeared, listening to the words.

_[N](https://open.spotify.com/track/7cs7MLtAWvsdf3w5kBvfK2?si=UJi3Xmn8Tda-_Pp7JeN4SQ)othing’s gonna hurt you baby _

_As long as you’re with me, you’ll be just fine_

It was a movie moment, the way Wooyoung’s hair fell on his face, looking at Yeosang, a curiosity lingering, as if he might do something unexpected soon, but waited it out, and the darkness behind him encouraging him to stay where he was, and that he will be rewarded for gazing at Yeosang for that long, and Yeosang gazed back, wondering if time will ever pass if they pretended it didn’t exist, hours and minutes and seconds just words now, something that he can’t feel, not in this moment. He wondered how it was possible for his face to feel so warm when the rest of his body was freezing.

“The difference between you and me,” Wooyoung whispered. “Is that once I see a star in the sky, I will build a rocketship just to go and catch it. While you continue looking on, watching from afar to admire it.”

“Hm.” Yeosang threw a hand on his forehead, watching the stars past Wooyoung. “You have a lot of analogies to work with.”

“Here’s another one. You’re the star, and I’m about to catch you.”

Yeosang smiled, his round teeth smittening Wooyoung, bringing him to the edge. He took Yeosang’s pale hand and held it by his heart. “I want to hold your hands.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not done! I want to hold your hand. I want to make you laugh. I want to see your smile every day. I want to know what you think about butterflies and endangered rainforests and stars and rocketships and snow. I want to know what music you’re listening to. I want to kiss you.”

“So you’re saying you want to date me.”

“In a more romantic sense, yes.”

Yeosang sat up. “Oh Wooyoung, you’re sooo romantic.”

“Can you stop taking this as a joke?”

“It’s not?”

“It’s not. I mean it.”

_And we're laughing in the microphone and singing_

_With our sunglasses on, to our favorite songs_

_Nothing's gonna hurt you baby_

_Nothing's gonna take you from my side_

“I’ll think about it.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

“Dammit,” Wooyoung cursed, slapping Yeosang’s hand softly. “Thought I’d catch a star tonight.”

Yeosang smiled. Wooyoung offered to walk Yeosang back to his dorm, and Yeosang accepted it. When they stood up Yeosang felt like his entire body was just loose muscles, forgetting for a moment how standing up felt like, and his shoes made crunching noises as they stepped over new snow; ones that hadn’t been victim to their warmth and turned to puddle. Yeosang still had one earpod in his ear, but Wooyoung had lowered his volume to more acceptable levels for him, falling to a whisper as they approached his hall building.

“How can I convince you to date me?” Wooyoung’s hands were in his jacket pocket, pausing to watch Yeosang walk towards the entrance door. Yeosang stopped in his tracks and turned towards Wooyoung, an eyebrow raised. His cheeks were pink, and Wooyoung’s lips had dried and chapped. _Thanks, winter, for making us look miserable,_ Yeosang thought to himself.

“There’s nothing for you _to_ do.”

“There’s one thing I can do.”

“What?”

“I can kiss you, and when you find out what a good kisser I am, you’ll definitely want to date me.”

A tune that Yeosang had heard hundreds of times in his life, because he liked it so much, started playing, the familiar low synth making the blood flow through his brain like rollercoasters, the beats finally dropping into the first verse, and string dragging nails into the edge of his head.

_[I](https://open.spotify.com/track/7DM09dmce4mMCoJ34jzLzp?si=h1ajOk4jRiOibCNkcd4aEQ)’m in love with an idea of you _

_I’m in love with a stranger, true_

_Such a perfect fantasy_

“Are you sure you’re not just doing it because you want to?” Yeosang retorted.

“It’ll help you make a decision.”

The song quieted as the first chorus ended, the slow beat in Yeosang’s ears making his heart pump faster, or maybe it was the boy in front of him now, threatening him with a kiss, that’s making his blood flow through his veins like a speeding car, knots twisting in his stomach again, breathing laboured just slightly from the thin air. Wooyoung walked closer to Yeosang, face nearing him with a smile, knowing he has the other on edge. If Wooyoung was transparent, Yeosang was a wall made of air, how see through he was. 

“Just one kiss,” Yeosang told.

Wooyoung touched Yeosang’s soft thin lips with his own plump ones. Yeosang could feel the crisp of a dried lip tear, but it didn’t bother him.

“One more?” Wooyoung asked in a soft whisper.

“Okay.”

Wooyoung tilted his head and opened his mouth, catching Yeosang’s lips in between his own, and Yeosang kissed back; he liked the warmth, the way Wooyoung didn’t move too fast or too slow, and didn’t force it onto him. He let go of Wooyoung’s lips after a minute, keeping quiet as he watched the other pull back.

“You liked it, right?”

Yeosang held back a smile.

“You did!”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“You love me, I know it,” Wooyoung sang, his mouth all curves and dimples as he stepped back into the darkness of the night, leaving Yeosang in the fluorescent lights of the building entrance, a shy smile lingering on his mouth. Wooyoung waved at him with a tinge of reluctance to leave the other behind. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Day after.”

“Okay,” Wooyoung sighed, hoping to trick Yeosang into seeing him outside of class, but Yeosang was quick witted. “I guess I’m going now.”

“Bye,” Yeosang nodded.

“I’m really going now.”

“I can see that.”

Wooyoung grinned and turned around, heavy feet as he walked away, towards his own hall. He hung his head low, closing his eyes in sudden embarrassment, biting his lower lip. He tried to process everything that had happened, but it all seemed too overwhelming, from confessing to his crush to having their first kiss. Without him realizing, his foot stepped on some thin ice, the friction on the sole of the shoes completely lost, sending him backwards onto his butt. He heard cackling from behind him, and turned to see Yeosang losing it, bending frontwards and holding his stomach in laughter. 

“I’m okay,” Wooyoung shouted sarcastically as he stood back up. “If you were concerned.”

Yeosang giggled as his laughter slowed, wiping away a tear. 

“Goodnight, Wooyoung.”


End file.
